Travel Guides and Stories

Back home for three days now, yet my mind still wanders through this glamorous journey, reluctant to return—my body, too. At the start I felt unwell, exhausted, unsure what lay ahead. But over ten days on the road, my spirit slipped the old track and, with my body, began to roam—unforced, effortless. It turned into a truly glamorous trip: mishaps and jolts pushed our senses toward crescendo. Through each experience, we discovered and understood ourselves. That feeling of the body following the heart was vivid and free, no longer self-propelled but gently carried along. I call it glamorous because it was so rich. Australia may not have deep layers of history, but it has boundless grasslands for wild drives, forests for night adventures, mountains to conquer, indulgent beaches to savor, and dazzling cities where you can steal a slow minute from the noise. We ate street food, picnicked by the sea, cooked Aussie steaks in our apartment, and devoured lobsters at the market. We stayed in a luxe seaside condo, roadside motels, a 5-bed dorm, and a yacht cabin I’ll never forget. All of it is now docked forever in my memory’s harbor. So we decided this diary had to be written—too much to say, too much to share. To keep it clear, I’ll recount day by day. It may read like a stream, but it’s real—and overflows with joy. This trip felt destined to be “freeform”: it came together by happy accident. One afternoon in Nov 2011, while fretting about work, a friend in Singapore pinged me with a perfectly-timed invite—Christmas in Australia: self-drive + chartered boat. An angelic plan arrived at the right moment; my heart grew wings and flew toward the Aussie sun. Convincing the men at home was harder than any paperwork. Going out over Christmas and New Year with my bestie felt like eloping. After plenty of soft-hard persuasion, my husband relented; my little boy accepted a gift bribe. Deep thanks to my mom—my biggest supporter in all my personal plans. Beyond morale, prep was practical: visas, flights, hotels, boat. A sweet, meticulous handwritten itinerary came from a young Aussie friend who shares my name and star sign. Tutu’s mom and I flew Beijing to Brisbane on the 23rd to meet friends flying from Singapore, plus an Aussie friend there—five in total. We rented one car and drove 1,000+ km down the east coast.

1. Visa: With little time and our first non-Asia visa, we were careful. Forms/docs are on the Australian Embassy in China site—print and hand-fill. Besides employer letters (employment and leave), the rest was easy. I hired an agent to submit (RMB 200 extra each). They said we looked like low-risk applicants: family, kids, Beijing residence, property, car, and prior European travel. Submitted Nov 29, issued Dec 6—five business days. Note: Embassy accepts personal applications mornings Mon–Fri; afternoons are for institutions. 2. Flights and boat: Friends handled the Aussie car rental. We booked international roundtrip, domestic flights, and the boat: - Sydney to Airlie Beach on Jetstar, about AUD 308. - Return: taxi Airlie Beach to Mackay (150 km, AUD 330 total; AUD 165 pp), then Mackay to Brisbane (USD 80). - Airlie Beach boat: USD 344 pp, incl. 5 meals + 1 night berth + two dives. We booked using links they sent, except the international roundtrip which we chose ourselves. Peak season and fixed dates, we picked Korean Air via Incheon—total 12 hours flying, 2-hour layover. Roundtrip AUD 1,076. Later we were glad we chose KE—more in the blog. 3. Hotels: 7 nights total. - Night 1 Brisbane (Mercure) river view—AUD 99 with a 50% member discount. - 1 night Gold Coast and 3 nights Sydney in Meriton 2BR apartments, with kitchen. First night AUD 303; three nights in Sydney AUD 825. - 1 night roadside motel, 2BR + living room, 6 beds, AUD 175. - Last land night: Base Airlie Beach Resort, 5-bed dorm (two bunks + one single), basic but fine, AUD 165. - Final “night”: Brisbane airport sofa—cost 0, ha. 4. Car rental: Aussie rentals are easy—pick up at one airport, drop at another. We used AVIS, booked online. Since Tutu’s mom and I left early, we only paid the first leg: Brisbane to Gold Coast (G.C.) day one, two days down to Sydney, two days around Sydney—5 days total. Cost AUD 525 (car + tolls AUD 5/day + insurance AUD 128), about AUD 105 pp. Fixed per-person cost (no food/shopping): RMB 17,000. We pooled a shared kitty for meals/misc. Beyond accommodation, each chipped in ~AUD 350 to the kitty. My total excluding personal purchases: RMB 19,000. Pre-departure: - Print all confirmations (hotels, flights, etc.). With confirmations, domestic flights often don’t even need passports. - Big, high-SPF sunscreen—Aussie sun won’t waste your SPF. - Passport, credit cards, AUD cash—and bring a UnionPay card. Even Sydney airport accepts UnionPay; some shops give 10% off. - Sunglasses, bottle, hat, cute outfits, and essentials. - Aussie power is same as China’s three-prong. Apple chargers may need a 3-to-2 adapter. - If you have an iPad, get a camera-to-iPad adapter. Great for on-the-go photo sharing. - Basic meds and band-aids. - Chinese notarized driver’s license—needed for Aussie rental. - Buy (or rent) a GPS map of Australia; rental GPS is AUD 11/day (English).

【Day 1】 2011.12.24 The moment I shouldered my pack, I belonged to myself. The initial wavering, then the sturdy joy—it was all mine. I’d never felt so light. I didn’t know what waited in that sunny land of beaches, but I was pulled like a magnet—strong and sure. Dec 23, 2 pm flight, we arrived at PEK T2 two hours early. Duti-free shop, then boarding. We chose Korean Air because of Tutu’s mom’s good experience—and it didn’t disappoint: clean, roomy cabin; crisp, kind crew; tasty meals; great IFE. The sisters’ squad departed.

I watched Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Real Steel, One Day...

Incheon is great for shopping—skincare and luxury, often cheaper than Beijing’s airport. We even caught a hanbok parade—smart cultural PR. Downside: tight transfers can make browsing impossible.

After 14 hours, we landed in Brisbane after 6 am. Brisbane is two hours ahead of Beijing. We found the “i” info desk, asked how to get to our hotel, and bought the airport coach—AUD 16 pp, about 30 minutes. Drivers check your hotel address and drop you right at the door—so thoughtful. Waiting for the coach outside the terminal.

Our airport coach—luggage rides in a small trailer behind.

Mercure sits by the Brisbane River near the CBD—walking distance to downtown and South Bank.

Brisbane is Australia’s third largest city and the capital of Queensland. Before this, my impression of Australia was endless grasslands and the Sydney Opera House. After a day, Brisbane felt friendly but not deeply etched. As an immigrant nation with a shorter modern history, its character mixes. Still, it’s lovable. We arrived early to feel the Christmas vibe. But like our Spring Festival, after 5 pm the streets thin, restaurants and shops close, and even buses stop—this is what respecting people looks like. The river threads the city. Lawns, parks, gazebos; kids playing, birds strolling, people biking and walking, lovers lounging—you have to slow your heartbeat, blur your thoughts, and stroll right in. It’s modern; the few older buildings are swallowed by high-rises, a local student friend Nic later said.

This artsy “box” is actually a utility cabinet—cute, right?

Queen St. mall is two blocks from the hotel. Check-in was at 2 pm, so we stored bags and wandered the CBD. Australia is rich in fruit. We grabbed fresh juice—AUD 5.5 a cup.

Slow-walking crowds, sit and rest when tired, watch street performers—just right.

Maybe it’s the lower pressure—people here seem relaxed. We popped into a Lush; the staff were cheerful, demoed products, posed for photos—joy that felt natural.

The earrings I bought that day.

Our camera crew never misses—wedding gowns in the windows stole a lot of film.

UGGs here are fairly cheap.

Our dedicated shooter at work.

After check-in, we headed to the river’s South Bank. Museums, a big theatre—stronger cultural vibe than the north. The sky was so blue; under it, people and buildings stood tall. My forgetful brain even forgot Beijing’s lung-scrubbing “feature” sky.

The art museum spans from ancient to modern/postmodern in separate halls.

These trees are everywhere—lovely in art, lovelier in life.

The museum is wonderfully inclusive—child-friendly captions under many works, written like a parent guiding a child, making art approachable.

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The riverside Ferris wheel overlooks the whole city.

Accidental scenery, happily collected.

The CBD from South Bank.

Public drinking fountains everywhere.

Two kids wandered back into the CBD to forage again.

Pizza was great—AUD 7 each.

Aussie weather flips fast—downpour one minute, blazing sun the next. Washed by rain, sunset was even lovelier. Streets were quiet. We bought fruit and instant noodles for a meaningful little Christmas Eve for two.

Christmas dinner.

Brisbane River by night—quiet, beautiful.

【Day 2】 2011.01.25 You only know why you walk when you truly walk—not to scan others, but to discover yourself. Sun, beach, blue sky, white clouds—their meaning is to make us smile and fall in love at a glance. Qian Zhongshu wrote: travel reveals character; it’s tiring, troublesome—your true self shows. After this trip, what made it special were friends perfectly in sync. Our 5: me and Tutu’s mom from Beijing; “Dong Ge” (a junior alum), now in Singapore, with his girlfriend “Bubble”; Nic, a grad student in Australia, a travel-planning wizard. All love food, fun, adventure, thrills—hence endless joy. Group photo (L→R): Tutu’s mom, Bubble, Dong Ge, Nic, and me “Chibao.”

Our self-drive began morning Dec 25. Dong Ge & Bubble landed early, grabbed the AVIS car at the airport, picked up Nic, then us. Our car: Toyota Corolla. We worried it’d be tight for 5, but it drove great—flat rear floor made the middle seat comfy; trunk just right. Australia drives on the left—right-hand drive—takes a bit to adjust. Besides Dong Ge, only I had a notarized license to sub. A GPS is essential; rental GPS is AUD 11/day. We had a Chinese map on our unit from Taobao—surprisingly decent. Our route: drive the East Coast. Day 1: Brisbane to Gold Coast (~90 km). The skyline meets a 30+ km golden beach, theme parks and Movie World, and canal villas with private moorings. Our “Little White Corolla” and our beloved driver “Dong Ge.”

Private villas like this are everywhere—dreamy.

Check-in was at 2, so we browsed the marinas. Still as glass, white sailboats dotted—and our greedy breathing. After years in smoggy Beijing, we wanted to wash our lungs in this air and let every hair feel joy.

Nic in “little-fresh” style.

Me “Chibao” in heroic mode.

A peaceful beach with family BBQs—we lingered a while.

Seagulls in flocks made the cove lively and sweet.

Minutes later, we met the Gold Coast we’d imagined—surf pounding Surfers Paradise. No gear, so we waded and braced for waves—ready to be drenched.

Through my lens: “Dong Ge,” telling a story of a drifter and the sea.

Sea-mist like a disaster film.

We hit our stride; our jumps show our high spirits.

“Little-fresh” fits best—Tutu’s mom.

Me “Chibao.”

The two of us: not knowing each other long, but “childhood-friend” vibes—mutual pull and understanding, conveyed in glances. We don’t demand of friendship; it flows like a brook.

The only two moms—“Moms can be little-fresh, too.”

The ocean witnesses our friendship.

Our photographer’s signature stance—later we saw he poses like this for everything.

I want to do more than list sights—I want to share the feelings and insights from living abroad, so you can be there through the words. After Surfers Paradise, we drove into town to eat. Christmas Day—streets were quiet. We looped blocks carefully to avoid violations, found a spot. Aussie parking meters take coins or cards; pay up front. As we puzzled over it, a passerby said: “It’s Christmas—free parking today.” We cheered.

This sign means pedestrians first—cars must stop and yield.

Benches shaped like surfboards—adorable.

Beaches and villas everywhere, with a few spiky towers in the center—modernity on display.

Food from everywhere: western and Asian. We skipped Chinese and went Korean—bibimbap and soups. My English could only parse ingredients; I ordered beef bibimbap—raw beef arrived. Fresh and tasty in Australia, though.

After lunch we checked in at Meriton. G.C. is compact—after a few loops you barely need GPS. This chain has 2–3BR apartment hotels across Aussie cities—great for families or groups. Split five ways, cheaper than hotels, plus a kitchen. We made full use: cookware, microwave, oven, even dishwasher, plus laundry with washer/dryer. We truly felt like we lived in Australia.

Room 1001 for us.

We froze at the door—like country bumpkins in the big city—checked every corner, opened every drawer, chirping like birds.

Balcony views.

After a wash and a breezy tea on the balcony, the plan: rest, then head to Springbrook National Park before sunset—Best of All Lookout for sunset—then glow worms and bioluminescent mushrooms in a cave at night. These glow worms (not fireflies) are found in Gold Coast and NZ, listed as World Natural Heritage and protected. They cling to damp cave walls.

Our GPS only took road names; we entered Springbrook Road—about 40 km. We thought 40 minutes, so we shopped for dinner and left unhurried—wrong call. Much was narrow mountain road; unfamiliar terrain and caution slowed us. We chased the sunset. The park felt raw; few signs; occasional cars and houses proved we weren’t lost; a kangaroo or two bounded by. Locals say if you hit a kangaroo (they’re overabundant), you can take it home—though who could eat such cuties? There were several lookouts, but we wanted “Best of All.” From car park to the lookout, 350 m of boardwalk. We sprinted like a 100 m dash—only later realizing we ran a forest path in near darkness—risky! We still missed the sun by ten minutes—just a blush behind dark clouds, like an ink wash painting—beautiful and bittersweet. One sunset shot caught on the way.

The “afterglow” we saw—subtle, like Chinese ink painting—another kind of grace.

Dong Ge & Bubble—sun or no sun, the scene was grand; companionship makes life rich. I was a bit envious.

No sunset? On to glow worms. We first found a tour company charging AUD 10—Nic remembered others said it was free somewhere else, and it was early, so we gambled. Back on the dark mountain road—only our car. We spotted parked cars at a pullout—turned out a family’s mountain home having a Christmas bonfire! They kindly gave directions. New target: “Natural Bridge.” Another half-hour, then a 10+ minute pitch-black walk, descending toward louder water. On the boardwalk into the cave—no flashlights allowed to protect the worms—our eyes adjusted. We gasped: the ceiling was studded with countless blue-green lights, like a reachable night sky, beside a small roaring waterfall. After ten dreamy minutes we took the return path up. Back in the car, we exhaled in awe—worth every twist. I cranked ISO and long exposure—photos barely a fraction of the magic.

Back at the apartment after 10 pm, our “chefs” made dinner: instant noodles, pan bacon, roast chicken, tomato eggs—and Australian red wine. After nature’s show, a nightcap to end a rich, thrilling day. Goodnight!

【Day 3】 2012.01.26 Breakfast kicked off Day 3—charred cookies but delicious; Aussie corn was plump and sweet. We slept in on the Gold Coast, ate, checked out, bought extra insurance at AVIS (AUD 128), and hit the road at 11. Next two days: G.C. to Sydney—about 1,200 km by highway. Self-drive means wandering—ahead matters, but so does everything between. The east coast towns share themes: lighthouses, sea, sand, churches. First stop: Byron Bay (76 km)—Australia’s easternmost lighthouse and a bohemian beach.

About Aussie highways: The Pacific Hwy snakes by sea and through forest—never boring. Mostly one or two lanes, moderate speeds, no toll booths. There are turnarounds; miss an exit, loop back easily. We pulled over after a missed exit to soak it in—sky high, clouds light, wind soft, trees swaying—boundless grassland and thick forests are Australia’s greatest luxury. You can’t take it home; it fills your heart. Even if it were only this, it would be enough.

From fields to sea in a blink—Byron felt so natural. Locals love this town: surfboards, beach balls, friends or family picnicking. We know we can’t truly blend in, but we tried to be low-key: found a patch of sand, lay back, soaked in sun. I still couldn’t resist snapping surfers and stunners with a “cannon”—and felt better seeing others with bigger lenses. Authentic joy is worth keeping. Fresh off the surf—what a look.

Strolling seagulls.

A wind-drenched series—swaggering, self-absorbed, in love with the sea and sky without a fight. That’s me: sometimes unsure, but on the road under a vast sky, I find myself—and I like her, relaxed and real.

We grabbed supplies and picnicked in the shade—sea breeze, sea view, college memories and childhood stories—perfectly in tune. Good travel mates are priceless.

Then up Lighthouse Rd to Cape Byron. Parking was scarce; we pulled over and took a few shots—later we found other lighthouses weren’t as spectacular. Regret remains.

Paragliders floated above—next time we must try.

“Family” check-in shot.

Afternoon, we refueled and pressed on. Fuel is self-serve; you pump, then tell the cashier—honor system.

You often see cars towing boats—entry-level boats cost similar to a car—but the joy is incomparable.

This was our only night without a pre-booked room—holiday peak and uncertain progress. Australia has abundant roadside motels and campgrounds, many off the web. At Coffs Harbour around 8 pm, everything was booked. After dinner, we drove to Macksville. Lost looking for the highway, a police car pulled us over—checked licenses and sobriety—and then escorted us onto the highway! Truly “people’s police.” Macksville was tiny and deserted by 9 pm. One motel, but not enough beds for five—no luck. We amused ourselves like happy vagrants, turning unknowns into fizzy happiness—maybe that’s travel’s highest state.

We pushed another 100 km to Kempsey and finally found a 2BR (6 beds) room—after bracing for sleeping rough, it felt like a lifeline. Except for Dong Ge (who wanted more “thrill”), we all voted to stop—security after the unknown. 11 pm—another day of delightful drama done. Photos next morning:

【Day 4】 2011.01.27 The longer I take to write, the longer I live in my curated memories—missing blue skies, seas, and that feeling. I think I’m in love with it. Today was mostly driving; target: Hunter Valley wineries. From Kempsey, we wanted Port Macquarie—but heavy rain drove us on to Port Stephens. A small lighthouse and dunes for sandboarding. Rain stopped; we went to a lookout. Not as jaw-dropping as Byron, but it had its own mellow charm—idle and languid. Stephens’ ease starts with elegant seabirds on the shore.

Tiny lighthouse, big ocean, and a café—coffee, cards, a bite: troubles forgotten. Rich experience fills the heart; there’s no room left for worry. Cherish the now.

The lighthouse museum tells the town’s story—donation-supported, free entry.

We voted to prioritize miles and drove on to Hunter Valley. Side note: my outfit plus the on-off rain earned me the nickname “shaman”—they made me “pray” for sun; it worked. Hunter Valley lies ~160 km NW of Sydney, named after Governor Hunter. The Hunter River runs through. With ideal climate and geography, it’s one of Australia’s oldest prime wine regions—100+ wineries for tasting and buying. We arrived around 4 pm; places close by 5:30, so we picked a dense winery road.

Post-rain skies were crystal; clouds kept morphing. The scenery slammed our senses higher: fields, vines, sky—their beauty felt unreal. Photos prove we truly stood here, shouting into the wind; a family of kangaroos can vouch we met eyes.

We randomly picked a winery—AUD 1 pp for tastings. Aussie reds are famous, especially South Australia’s. Shiraz (Syrah) is the prince grape here.

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Tipsy and happy (except our driver), we went wild: unapologetic, stubborn, free.

Nic’s look fit the vines—like a sprite wandering.

At road’s end, no one else around. We had to leave something behind—so we ran and yelled, not just for photos but for ourselves. Then we started “modeling” with our Corolla—everyone took turns as the ad face.

Bubble’s set.

Nic’s set.

Tutu mom’s set.

My set.

Remember our gloriously “silly” days—so bold, so fun.

Backlit favorites—my love.

My “shaman” at peak power.

Silhouette series.

As we left for Sydney, a wrong turn granted us a wish—kangaroos! They lounged nearby, at ease with humans. That’s true harmony—not just among people, but with animals too.

We didn’t get too close—about a dozen meters away—paparazzi-style. Our hearts raced more than for any celebrity.

Dusk fell; we headed to Meriton in Parramatta (West Sydney) on George St—three nights in a 140 m² duplex. Cheap because Parramatta is “rougher,” they say, but the front desk guy was lovely and the place felt like home.

Aussie sunsets are truly gorgeous.

Dinner on the local Italian street, then blissful sleep. See you tomorrow. 【Day 5】 2011.01.28 Australia’s vastness is not just visual—you feel tiny when you measure it with your own steps. If the first days kept our feet on the line, today’s Blue Mountains humbled us. We weren’t expecting much—after so much nature, we felt an obligation to “check the box.” GPS guided us onto a narrow, rough dirt lane—odd for a famous park—but curiosity won. The faded sign said “National Park.” Two locals were cooking by a van—clearly well-equipped hikers. A weathered sign to “Victoria Falls 2 km”—we dove into a “trail” barely there. Our outfits weren’t “hiking,” but we went laughing down, sweating happily. An hour later, water roared—we cheered, then found a modest falls. Effort, solitude, and the insanely fresh air made it worth a 30-minute pause.

Before the descent—those smiles feel precious in hindsight.

The valley we descended to for the falls, seen from a lookout above.

We amused ourselves recreating meme “types of youth”—just for fun.

We climbed back to the top in 40 minutes—legs like lead, breath ragged, but we conquered ourselves. The view tasted sweeter.

This big “heart” felt like our medal.

A morning of “real” hiking with no tourist markers later, we stumbled into a lane of lovely homes—mountain living, pure air, perfect skies, beauty that numbs. Who wouldn’t want this? We continued searching for the “famous” spots—Katoomba, Echo Point—finally spotted a sign: Echo Point! Crowds confirmed it—the Three Sisters. Honestly, imagination required; we snapped a few and moved on.

We bought steaks, veg, fruit at Coles and paired with Hunter red. Chef Nic served a feast. A touch decadent—and unforgettable.

【Day 6】 2011.12.29 For many who’ve never been to Australia, “Sydney Opera House” pops up first. After this road, it felt more like a symbol than a marvel. I expected to gape, but seeing it up close—aged yellowish tiles, throngs of tourists—I stayed oddly calm. As a structural engineer, I “should” have studied it—but I stopped at the edge. We had our most lavish breakfast of the trip—milk, croissants, oat bread, butter, corn, bacon, eggs, kangaroo skewers—then drove toward the CBD. Closer meant more cars, crowds, and cramped streets; we collectively craved escape from the city’s pressure. Parking is tight; we found a 2-hour spot near the bridge—enough if you skip the bridge climb, harbor cruise, and shopping. We walked from Harbour Bridge along Sydney Cove to the Opera House—shot it and the bridge from all angles. Maybe not as polished as pros, but the people in our photos—jumping, smiling, pensive—are real; the pictures speak our mood.

Sydney Harbour Bridge

Us, on the move.

Opera House became just a backdrop.

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The Rocks—charming narrow streets, indie shops, easy cafés—time well wasted.

George St toward the bridge is narrow; big brands sit inside old buildings—casually chic. Array

A button shop in The Rocks—little works of art. Array

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The afternoon highlight: Fish Market feast. We skipped GPS and navigated by paper/map—when we saw “Welcome” in Chinese, it felt homey. The market sells raw or cooked—steam-to-eat or have it cooked for you. Lobsters, spanner crabs, salmon, mud crabs galore. We fulfilled our lobster vow—plus crab legs, oysters, salmon—then devoured it al fresco by the harbor, with seagulls and sea views. No “most” joy—only “more.” AUD 33 pp.

After the market closed (~4 pm), we visited our matchmakers’ home—saw daily Aussie life: comfy, leisurely, simple, a bit dull. Then to South Cronulla Beach—arrived near dusk. Our lobster oath meant instant noodles for dinner—but we bought big fresh prawns at the market. Prawn noodle bowls— heavenly. We joked we’re all “foodies.” Early to bed for a 6 am flight to Airlie Beach/Proserpine—GPS said 14 km to SYD, alarms set for 4 am.

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It’s 2 am on Jan 16 as I write this—time to sleep and dream of Australia... 【Day 7】 2011.12.30 The simplest, most laid-back day on paper became the most adrenaline-laced morning: two alarms didn’t ring; front desk corrected our wrong airport address; then we realized the real departure time was 6:05, not 6:35 (time zone!). Twenty-five minutes to takeoff—we begged at check-in, AVIS rushed the return, and we sprinted through security. We made it—barely. Domestic security is lenient—liquids allowed; Jetstar sells everything except hot water. We connected via Brisbane; after 4+ hours, arrived 10:40 at Proserpine—tiny, friendly airport, one plane at a time. Few Asian faces here—happy we made it. Shuttle bus to our lodging—Base Airlie Beach Resort—5-bed dorm (we’d vowed we’d sleep on the street if we just made the flight—so this felt fine).

The ride into Airlie Beach was already stunning.

Our resort: no hilltop ocean view, but close enough to hear the sea—good deal.

The 5-bed dorm was cuter than expected—bunk beds sent us back to college—another fun lodging memory.

A leafy 2-story with a shared pool—honestly perfect.

Airlie is a beloved seaside town—not famous for beaches, but for sailing and diving. By day: bikini shoppers; by night: party central—like a mini Sanya.

Finally tried XXXX beer.

We checked in for our sail with the “Wings” company—the blue décor was cool, but the front-desk gal stole the show: energetic, expressive, infectiously happy. We wondered where her daily passion comes from—maybe the magic under the sea. We’re even more excited for two days offshore.

Then we wandered oceanfront with watermelon and cards—planning to laze the afternoon away.

The most reliable thing here: views that leave you speechless—every angle, every moment has its own charm. Four women curled on the sand—sea calm as a pond, white sails in the distance, seagulls around, clouds drifting overhead—fruit, cards, and sweet idleness.

A man tossed a ball far into the sea; his dog swam out and back—a tender, moving scene.

Our “casual” dinner peaked at the public BBQs—free electric hotplates. Bring your food, push the button, and clean up after. We made Mexican-style wraps—grilled meat and veg in tortillas—eaten by the sea with distant guitar music. Talking or staying quiet both felt perfect.

Full and happy, we strolled back through a town lit like a floating palace—the nightlife just beginning. But we turned in—tomorrow’s sail awaits. 【Day 8】 2011.01.31 New Year’s Eve. My first time on a liveaboard—jitters and joy. We stored luggage, checked in at 8:30, filled health/swim/English forms. Our skipper Richie briefed safety, and at 9 we boarded with 22 other guests. In the harbor, the sea was glass—once outside, the swells slapped the bow. We sat up front, screaming as spray drenched us—like a pirate ship ride, ocean-style.

The yacht is compact but fits 23 guests + 3 crew, with two heads and showers—spotless. I had a lower bunk in this cabin.

Crew: Richie—skipper and dive instructor.

Dyllan—helmsman and host.

Ben—cook and guide.

Three handsome styles: Richie—witty Brit with a Danish girlfriend, curious about China; Dyllan—quietly cool, then a killer smile; Ben—sunny and simple, serving up deliciousness. We were smitten. After two hours we reached Blue Pearl Bay for our first dive. We’d booked the package—AUD 340 pp incl. 5 meals, 1 night, 2 dives. Others could snorkel for free. We were in the second dive group; while waiting, we had a little photo fun.

Recognize this outfit/pose? Viral online once. I finally bought it for yacht photos—its charm is the back, so lots of back shots. A blurry selfie, but the best feel—couldn’t delete.

Done deal.

More backlit backs.

Tutu mom in white—pure as the sea and sky.

Bubble’s national-style dress—fiery and eye-catching.

Time to dive. We four can’t swim and had never dived—excited but scared. After mouthpiece drills, Tutu mom bowed out—panic breathing through the regulator. Richie regretted it but took us three down. First dive was short; nerves, dry mouth, ear pressure—we clung to Richie and barely noticed the sea’s beauty.

After lunch (thanks, Ben), we moved to Luncheon Bay for dive two. Tutu mom opted to snorkel. We three were anxious after the first dive, but decided to push through. As soon as I dipped in, I felt lighter—attention shifted outward. I let go of Richie’s hand and swam on my own. Fish in every color, corals of all shapes, silent joy with only the sound of my breath—time stopped.

Sunset turned sultry.

We motored to our night anchorage; seas got rough, and seasickness hit some hard. I curled up; Bubble and Tutu mom fed the fish. After dinner came the NYE party—music, laughter, and a half-moon above the deck. I cried a little—moved by the moment, missing family—but we all looked at the same moon and wished the same wish. 2011.12.31 midnight—we counted down together. Happy New Year!

2011.12.31 12:00—we counted, welcomed, and wished: Happy New Year!

【Day 9】 2012.01.01 The finale—and the peak: Great Barrier Reef in full glory. Woken by Ben’s guitar and a “wake up” song at our bunks—best alarm ever. We even spotted a giant turtle swimming by, peeking at us. After breakfast, a tender took us ashore; we hiked over a hill to Whitehaven Beach—boats can’t anchor on the fragile shallows. The trail views were already crazy.

Bubble was wiped from seasickness—low energy today.

A group goofy shot—good fun.

Over the hill—and we were stunned. Heavenly. Pure white sand, dazzling; shoes off, skin to nature. Powder-soft; black flecks were coral remains left by the tide.

This beauty made us jump higher—closer to heaven—to release the heart.

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This endless beach—so clean you tread lightly. Forgive our intrusion; we came with reverence, left only love and breath, and took nothing but memories. We left as cleanly as we came.

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Dong Ge—legend.

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Finally snagged a photo with Ben—his smile is contagious.

2012, here we come.

“Chibao from China was here.” Array Lobster money could also get you a scenic helicopter—splurge!

From the lookout, the colors of the Reef unfold—depths and corals painting the sea. Best explained with silence—use your eyes, your heart.

Those earlier portraits were shot on that tiny middle sandbar—you can wade there. Here, land appears/disappears as the tide breathes; a minute later, sand becomes sea.

The sign says: life began here—preserved since dinosaur times. Protect it. Life Was Begin Here!

In this minute, sea and sky merged—clouds painting curves on water. I miss it already.

Ben’s backpack—adorable. Array

Back at the yacht by 4 pm on Jan 1, then our pre-booked taxi took us two hours to Mackay airport. Outside the big cities, Aussie airports are mini and friendly. We barely had time to switch gears before heading home. Dong Ge, Bubble, and Nic drove back to Brisbane. Parting after such days together was hard—we hugged tight and promised: next time, “Northern Europe.” Two stylish lads to close our story—hoping this isn’t a period but a semicolon. For travel, we’re always en route—only midpoints, no endpoints.

On the night of the 1st, we flew from Mackay to Brisbane International. With an 8 am flight to Beijing, we “slept” at the airport—another notch on our experience belt. Time to say goodbye to Australia. It won’t leave my heart—it’s in there, full to the brim, with joy and longing. That, I’ll keep. The End.